Life looks better in spring
by Ms-Montana
Summary: MerDer post season 6 finale. Meredith has to cope with everything that happened. Meredith/Christina friendship. Rated T to be safe.


Life looks better in spring

**A/N: I think this is about the 100****th**** post-season 6 finale-story, but I had to write it, don't ask me why. If there is any similarity (except the obvious that it's about the season 6 finale) I'm sorry, I don't want to copy anyone's story. Please review and tell what you liked and what you didn't like. All grammar and spelling mistakes are mine. I don't own Grey's Anatomy. The title of the story is the song title "Life looks better in spring" by Jon Lilygreen and The Islanders. I don't own this song.**

_The hospital was my safe place._

Meredith Grey sat in a seat in a room in the ICU. She felt tired. She felt hungry. She felt sad. She felt happy. She felt thankful. She felt like a woman with a husband, who had been shot. She felt like a woman who had lost her baby. Her arms were wrapped around her legs and her head rested on her knees. It wasn't a comfortable position, but she didn't want to sleep. It helped to stop the pain. This day had been far too long for sleeping and having pain.

_I love it here._

She watched Derek sleeping. Watched him breathing in and out. Watched him, while is heart was beating. His eyes were closed, but Meredith knew she would like at them when he woke up again. His chest rose and sunk with every breath. Outside his room it was silent. No word was spoken. The whole hospital was silent. The sad sort of silence. It was the sort of funeral silence. 11 people had died. She hadn't wanted to tell him how many people had lost their lives. So, Richard did. Derek blamed himself. But it wasn't his fault. He was the man she loved. No matter what.

_Correction: loved it here._

The picture of Gary Clark didn't leave her head, although she wanted so much to forget. Forget his face. Forget his gun. Forget that he was the one who shot Derek. Forget that he was the one who pointed at Christina with a gun. Pointed at her with a gun. He had lost his wife. The woman he had loved. The love of his life. Meredith asked herself if Derek would do the same for her.

_Shoot me.__ Tell Derek that I love him and that I'm sorry._

Why did she say that? Meredith asked herself over and over again. But her words were true. She had loved Derek. She still loved him. He was her husband. He was always there for her. The love of her life. The only man who hadn't left her. He stayed at her side. Protecting her from the dark. And now it was her turn to protect him from the dark. Sometimes they had to switch places.

_Wait__, wait, wait, wait, wait. She's pregnant. You wouldn't shoot a woman who's pregnant._

Christina was an amazing surgeon. Saving his life. With a gun at her head. This sentence made Meredith sob. The baby inside of her had died. In a second it was had been gone. Only a trail of blood, washed away with water. Only a stain in her blue pants. Forgotten by everyone. But she wouldn't forget it. This baby was hers. It was theirs. Hers and Derek's. When he had been awake some hours earlier she hadn't been able to tell him. He had been too weak. She would tell him soon enough.

_Hey, I hope it has his hair._

Meredith smiled. She tried not to cry. She tried to hide the pain. She tried to hide how much it hurt to think about her baby. She tried to hide the physical pain she felt.

"Are you okay?" someone asked. Meredith turned her head and saw Christina. They both didn't move.

"I'm fine. Everything's okay. Derek is alive." she answered.

"You know, I don't believe you. You told me the same sentence with the exact same words before." She knew how hurt Meredith was. She had felt the same. Christina knew all of her feelings. Burke had been shot like Derek. She had lost a baby like Meredith.

"You wanna talk about it?" Christina asked.

"About what?" she asked. She already knew what she wanted to say. Her bloodstained pants had said enough this afternoon. They had told everyone: I lost my unborn child.

"About the baby. You can't tell everything is okay."

"I'm fine. Everything is okay. Derek is alive." Meredith repeated her words.

"Mer, when I lost my baby, I didn't want to have one and it still hurt. I wouldn't admit it, but it was so. You wanted children and now you lost it, you can't tell me that you are okay not even 12 hours later."

"I'm not okay. But if I think about it, I have to cry and sob. I'm not allowed to cry and sob. I have to be strong. I have to be a good wife for Derek. I have to be there for him. And talking about this loss would make me cry and sob." she explained. Christina understood it completely.

"Okay. I have to go now. I only had to check Derek's vitals. He is going to be Derek again. I have to check Owen now, if he is in his room." She looked at Meredith again and wanted to leave.

"Why should he not be in his room?" she asked.

"He thinks he is G.I. Joe, the invulnerably soldier." Christina laughed and Meredith smiled as good as possible. They both knew it was a fake, but they understood. Now Meredith was alone again.

_I'm not gonna die, I promise._

He had kept his promise. Derek didn't die. He was alive. He was breathing. His heart was beating. Christina had saved his live. She had saved _her_ guy, while Meredith had saved Owen. Derek was alive. He was with her. They would have pretty babies in the future. And although she knew all this Meredith felt incredible alone. She felt like the loneliest person in the world and it seemed like nobody could help her. And then she cried. She like never before in her entire life. She cried for help. The tears rolled down her cheeks and she could felt the salt in the corners of her mouth. Quiet sobs made it easier. They eased the pain. Derek blinked and tried to move a bit. Meredith stood up and took his hand. They looked into each others eyes.

_Good, cause that would be the worst break-up ever._

She felt sorry for saying this. Break-ups. Their whole love story was full of break-ups. Full of red-head surgeons, women named after flowers and guys, who loved pets.

"Good morning." Derek whispered. Meredith whipped away the tears with one hand but they were replaced by new tears.

"Good night would be a better paraphrase." she answered with a broken voice.

"Why do you cry?" he asked.

"You are alive. You didn't die. You are alive."

"I know. I promised. Still 11 people?" she knew what he was talking about. She nodded. _12, counting their unborn baby._

"What are you thinking right now? Please tell me the truth. Please." His voice wasn't more than a whisper. It wasn't more than the slight try to speak. Meredith couldn't tell him. But he was asking. And she wanted to be honest.

"12… if… if you count…" she started. But she couldn't end her sentence. Derek squeezed her hand and she cried again.

"If you count who…?" He didn't know. But he deserved to know.

"I… I took… a... I took a pregnancy test. It was positive." Meredith couldn't speak even one more word. His eyes lit up and he smiled. He looked better. She closed her eyes. And then she cried again.

"I... lost… it. I had a miscarriage. I'm sorry." Every word echoed in her head.

_I LOST IT. I HAD A MISCARRIAGE._

"It's okay. Please don't cry. Please… Everything is okay." Derek said. He tried to sit up, but he failed.

"Stop sitting, Derek. Please. You hurt yourself." Meredith said. She forgot to sob. She kissed Derek and forgot to cry. Forgot her tears.

"Everything will be okay again. It's not your fault. We will have many pretty babies, agreed?" he asked with a smile. Derek felt pain but I didn't matter right now.

"Agreed."

"Life looks better in spring. Did you know?" he asked. Meredith smiled and kissed him again.

"Maybe next spring." So she stood next to him the whole night.

_The human life is made up of choices. Yes or no. In or out. Up or down. And then there are the choices that matter. Love or hate. To be a hero or to be a coward. To fight or to give in. To live. Or die. Live or die. That's the important choice. And it's not always in our hands._

Sometimes it's in the hands of a person you don't trust.  
Sometimes it's in the hands of a person you love.  
Sometimes it's in the hands of a person that loves you  
Sometimes it's in the hands of a person you don't even know.  
And sometimes… Sometimes you have to believe.  
Believe that someone will help you.  
That someone will catch you up.  
That someone will be there for you.  
And will kiss you to sleep.  
In sickness and in health.


End file.
